James Bond: Death For Breakfast
by yellowpajamas86
Summary: In this second chapter, James Bond (AKA Sir Thomas Bridge) meets his partner, Elissa Martinez and lets her in on what she can expect from the cold, calculated, yet suave super spy.


Death for Breakfast

Chapter 2

Liaison

007 slowly exited the taxi and leaned down to give the cabby his fare. "Thank you, sir." The driver looked up at Bond. "Thank YOU, mate." James Bond had been to Australia before, but he still didn't like the whole "Mate" thing. It sort of reminded him of those unrefined Cockney buggers on the East End. Stepping toward the hotel, Bond turned quite a few ladies' heads. He loved that sort of thing and he gave them the twice over in return. In his dark grey three piece suit, he was sweating his bum off, but sweat was nothing to a secret agent. It was also nothing to a travelling businessman selling liquor and weapons.

What he didn't know was that he had a liaison he was to meet in his hotel room. Approaching the front desk, he smiled at the concierge. "My name's Bridge, Sir Thomas Bridge."

"Yes, we've been expecting you, Sir Thomas. So has your wife."

"My wife?"

"Yes, Sir Thomas. Mrs. Bridge is waiting for you."

"Where is my room?"

The concierge, a shapely woman with long, brown hair put up in a flowing ponytail, looked down at her computer screen and then looked up.

"Suite 423, Sir Thomas."

Bond put on his best poker face, trying not to appear affected by the mention of that particular room number which was the very same number that he ordered the caviar and champagne to be sent to for his planned rendezvous with his future wife, Theresa Di Vicenzo. The death of the one woman whom he loved more than any other that he had bedded before or since was still firmly in the forefront of his mind, but in this moment he had to be cold so that no one would be any the wiser that he was James Bond.

"Thank you, very much, Miss..."

"Rivers, Gianna Rivers. Have a nice stay, Sir Thomas."

"I'm quite sure I will." Bond replied as he walked toward the lift, turning his head to smile at her as he walked away. Miss Rivers quickly picked up her phone and whispered into the receiver, "The dealer has left for his room. You have orders to watch him. Make sure you follow them."

"Of course," a voice on the other end replied.

The lift bell rang and Bond stepped inside. He was well aware that he was being watched. What he didn't know was who they worked for. He had an idea that this was all the brainchild of Blofeld. After all, he was the one Bond was after - or rather Sir Thomas Bridge was after - and he fully expected that the disguise would fool everyone else except for Blofeld. Neither he nor Bond was a twit. They both had brains, but the question was whose were superior?

Finally, Sir Thomas reached the 400th floor. He stepped carefully from the door of the lift, looking both ways as he stepped into the hall. He walked silently, yet nonchalantly toward his room, Suite 423. He swiped the key card and turned the knob slowly. He closed the door quietly behind him and walked in.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Bridge." He said to apparently no one, although he knew someone was in the room. Suddenly a very beautiful redhead stepped out from the loo.

"Good afternoon, darling. Have you brought the weapons?"

"I'm curious... are you posing as my wife or as my client? I've had both." He smirked as he said it, but the woman remained quite serious.

"I am posing as your wife, but I am nobody's client. I am your liaison on this mission. My name is Elissa Martinez of the CIA."

"You wouldn't happen to know an old friend of mine. Would you?"

Elissa brought herself close to Bond, throwing her arms around him and putting her mouth close to his ear. "I know who you are, Mr. Bond, but you must be aware that there are bound to be bugs in the room. I am supposed to be known to everyone. You are meant to be known by no one."

"I see. You are playing the part of a crooked CIA agent who is buying weapons to supply to a certain foreign enemy to put a knife in America's back, but I'm supposed to just be a slimy salesman. I read you loud and clear, Miss Martinez. Would it be going against the part if I kissed you?"

"I don't think it would go against the part. After all... we are posing as a couple."

Bond smiled and their lips parted and closed together gently, caressing each other. Bond's lips moved to her smooth, slender neck.

"I have a feeling," Elissa whispered as Bond continued kissing her neck, "That Blofeld knows who you are."

"Trust me," Bond replied, "I get the same feeling myself. Right down to booking us into Suite 423. You say you know who I am... Do you know the significance of that number?"

"I do not wish to open an old wound."

"Don't worry about it. Tell me."

"It was the hotel room number where you meant to rendezvous with the Countess Theresa."

"Yes, and do you know who I was pursuing when I met her?"

"Ernst Stavro Blofeld."

"Correct. Enough talk... Let's call it a night."

"My thoughts exactly, darling."


End file.
